tell Ray.”
“I should warn you, he’s mad as hell. Said I should spank you.”
What? Christian laughs at my appalled expression. “I told him I’d be only too
willing to oblige.”
“You didn’t!” I gasp, though a memory of a whispered conversation while I
was unconscious tantalizes me. Yes, Ray was here while I was laid out . . .
He winks at me. “Here, Taylor brought you some clean clothes. I’ll help you
dress.”
As Christian predicted, Ray is furious. I don’t ever remember him being this
mad. Christian has wisely decided to lea一ve us alone together. For such a
taciturn man, Ray fills his hospital room with his invective, berating me for my
irresponsible beha一vior. I am twelve years old again. Oh, Dad, please calm
down. Your blood pressure is not up to this.
“And I’ve had to deal with your mother,” he grumbles, wa一ving both of his
hands in exasperation.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“And poor Christian! I’ve never seen him like that. He’s aged. We’ve both
aged years over the last couple of days.”
“Ray, I’m sorry.”
“Your mother is waiting for your call,” he says in a more measured tone.
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I lean over and kiss his cheek, and finally he relents from his tirade.
“I’ll call her. I really am sorry. But thank you for teaching me to shoot.”
For a moment, he regards me with ill-concealed paternal pride. “I’m glad you
can shoot straight,” he says, his voice gruff. “Now go on home and get some
rest.”
“You look well, Dad.” I try to change the subject.
“You look pale.” His fear is suddenly evident. His look mirrors Christian’s
from last night, and I grasp his hand.
“I’m okay. I promise I won’t do anything like that again.”
He squeezes my hand and pulls me into a hug. “If anything happened to you,”
he whispers, his voice hoarse and low. Tears prick my eyes. I am not used to
displays of emotion from my stepfather.
“Dad, I’m good. Nothing that a hot shower won’t cure.”
We lea一ve through the rear exit of the hospital to a一void the paparazzi gathered
at the entrance. Taylor leads us
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